


Six Weeks

by unfolded73



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Breastfeeding, F/M, Hand Jobs, Kid Fic, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2017-11-28
Packaged: 2019-02-08 04:23:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12856671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unfolded73/pseuds/unfolded73
Summary: As requested, here is the first-sex-after-the-baby-is-born smut. Followup to "The Swans in the Evening."





	Six Weeks

**Author's Note:**

> Several people on tumblr asked me to write this, and there are some less than sexy, perhaps even unpleasant, things in here of a biological/sexual nature. I think on balance it’s sexy, but I wrote it, and YMMV. Read at your own risk. (Also, this is based as much as memory allowed on my own experiences, not on a thorough, scientific survey of postpartum women, so again, your mileage likely varied. Which is fine.)

Killian stood at the front window, swaying back and forth and patting the baby on the back. It made a satisfying thumping noise, the way his pats resonated in her tiny chest. Sunlight streamed in through the window, warming his face and contributing to the sense of well-being he was filled with, here in his home with his daughter. Maureen nosed against his clavicle through the burping cloth, uttering soft baby grunts as she fidgeted. 

A bright yellow car pulled up and stopped in front of the house. “Mama’s home,” he murmured, kissing the top of the baby’s head.

His eyes followed Emma as she let herself through the front gate and trotted up the walk. Her long hair hung loose, cascading over the shoulders of the red plaid wool coat she wore. Her leather jackets were buried in the hall closet ( _I can’t even zip this one up_ , she’d moaned of her favorite jacket part of the way through her pregnancy, and he hadn’t seen it since). As the door opened, he turned to greet his wife.

“Hey, was she okay?” Emma said immediately, her eyes going to the baby, slightly out of breath like she’d rushed home. He was surprised she’d resisted the urge to teleport herself, now that he thought about it.

Killian continued to pat Maureen’s back. “Don’t worry, Swan, she’s in a good mood this afternoon. We had a bath and a bottle,” he said with a smile down at the bundle in his arms. “All is well. How was your doctor’s appointment?”

“All’s well there too,” she said, but her grimace seemed to contradict the statement. She lifted her hands as if to reach for the baby, but then seemed to think better of it and dropped them.

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah.” She exhaled sharply. “Just a vaguely unpleasant experience, getting poked and prodded down there. But it’s all good.” She shrugged out of her coat, still staring at Maureen, and Killian could tell she was resisting the temptation to grab the baby from him.

“I think your mum wants to hold you, sweet love,” he whispered to the top of Maureen’s head, giving Emma a wink before walking over and gently tipping the baby into her arms. 

“Sorry,” Emma said as she adjusted the baby on her shoulder. “I didn’t want you to feel like I thought you were doing a bad job with her while I was gone, I just… missed her. It’s kind of pathetic how much I missed her. I was only gone for an hour.”

“It’s quite all right; no offense taken.” He wanted to ask more about Emma’s appointment; what kind of prodding did they do exactly, and what was it that indicated she was physically ready for sex? But the last thing he wanted to do was appear to be putting pressure on her, especially since she seemed ambivalent about resuming that aspect of their relationship just yet. “I should probably go do a quick patrol, make sure there’s no sheriffing that needs attending to. She probably won’t be hungry for at least another hour. Is there anything you need before I go?”

Maureen’s fist closed around a hank of Emma’s hair and pulled, making her wince. “Yeah, can you chop off my hair?”

Killian took the tiny fist and carefully pried it open, freeing Emma’s hair, then moved it behind her shoulder to get it out of reach. “How about I fetch one of your ponytail holders?”

“Yeah, that would be good.” She sighed and eased herself down into the rocking chair they kept in the living room, twin to another in the baby’s room. 

He took the stairs two at a time, striding purposefully into their bedroom and over to the little dish on the dresser where odds and ends tended to collect. As he fished out one of the stretchy bands, his eyes strayed to the bed, sight of little else these days but desperate attempts to catch up on sleep. He couldn’t help but wonder if more enjoyable activities might soon resume there, although sleep would certainly be paramount for a while yet if Maureen continued her current night owl ways.

His gaze caught on Emma and their daughter as he descended the stairs. Emma had the child on her lap, head near her knees and tiny feet up in the air, and the two of them were staring at each other, Emma murmuring nonsense sounds and playing with the baby’s toes. Killian’s heart seemed to seize in his chest at how much he loved both of them.

Emma looked up and caught him staring. “You okay?”

He smiled, moving over behind her to gather her hair with his hand and hook so that he could secure it in a ponytail. “Just admiring my two ladies is all.”

As his fingers swept across her neck, he couldn’t help noticing the way they raised goosebumps on Emma’s skin. Killian suddenly wished there was time to let his lips follow the path of his fingers, to see if he could elicit even more of a response from her. Alas, now wasn’t the time.

Once he had her ponytail tied up, Killian spared one last moment to stroke his hand down the soft fall of her hair before stepping away. 

“Thanks,” Emma said. 

“Of course.” Killian patted his jeans pockets and finding nothing, looked around for his car keys.

“What would… what would you think if I did get it cut?”

“Your hair?” He tried to picture his wife with short hair, and sort of failed. “How short?”

Emma shrugged. “I don’t know. Short enough that Maureen couldn’t grab it so easily.”

“I think that’s a fine idea, love.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, considering. “Yeah, but you’re attracted to me with long hair.”

“I’d be attracted to you with no hair, Emma.”

She scoffed, her eyes already back on the baby. “Whatever.”

He felt the urge to make one of his romantic proclamations, was already half-formulating it in his head, how he was so attracted to her that merely the scent of her on her laundry the other day had him half-hard as he stood in the basement next to the washer and smelled her shirt, but he looked at the way her attention was focused on Maureen and sensed that she didn’t really want that from him right now. He’d save it for another day.

Leaning over, he kissed her on top of her head. “I’ll see you later.”

He made a cursory patrol around town, checking in at the Rabbit Hole to make sure there hadn’t been any trouble lately, and drove slowly by the alleys where he sometimes caught kids up to no good. After a check at the docks, he made Granny’s his last stop, where he exchanged a gander at recent pictures of the baby on his phone for all of the latest town gossip. While he was there, he picked up some take-out for dinner. 

Twilight had settled by the time he returned home, warm bag of food in hand. He found Emma in the kitchen, washing bottles while Maureen lay in her baby swing, looking up at the little animals above her head, twirling in time to the tinny music produced by the contraption’s speaker.

“How’s Storybrooke?”

“Quiet,” he said, setting the bag down on the table. “How are my favorite people in the world?” he asked as he kissed Emma’s cheek.

“She’s been okay, actually. I got a chance to lie down and take a _nap_.”

He gasped over-dramatically. “What _luxury_.”

“I _know_.” Emma grinned, her eyes bright and shining. “I feel like a new woman.”

Killian wrapped his arms around her, a smile growing on his face to match her own. He leaned in close and nuzzled against her neck, and again just the scent of her brought desire slamming into him quite suddenly. 

“Stop smelling me, Killian,” Emma said, leaning away. “I probably smell like sour milk.”

“Mmm, you don’t, you smell like Emma,” he said softly, letting his lips brush against her skin. “It’s intoxicating.”

Emma turned her head, capturing his mouth in a kiss. He nipped gently at her lips, coaxing her mouth to open, and they kissed languorously until a squawk from Maureen caused them to break apart.

Killian rested his forehead against Emma’s. “Doesn’t she know I’m trying to seduce her mother?” he asked.

“She probably does, and she’s jealous of your attention.” Emma walked over and unbuckled the crying baby from the swing while Killian unpacked the takeout. Emma ate with Maureen in her arms, as she so often ended up doing, while Killian filled her in on the town gossip from Granny’s.

The baby’s bedtime went more smoothly than usual, and they had her bathed, fed and changed by 8:30. As Emma turned off the light in the nursery, Killian’s hand stole around her waist. 

“Do you want to watch TV?” Emma asked. 

He shook his head. “I think I’d like to turn in, if that’s all right with you,” he whispered.

“Oh. Um, yeah, that’s fine.”

She looked worried, and that was the last thing he wanted. “We don’t have to do anything, love; I don’t have expectations.” He pulled her into his arms and looked down at her face. “I’d just like to kiss you for a bit.”

Emma raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Just?”

Letting out a breath, he tilted his head in concession. “Okay, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want you. But please don’t feel pressured. I’ll be happy simply to hold you without interruption.”

Sneaking another glance into the nursery, Emma pulled the door shut very carefully. “Don’t get your hopes up.”

They readied themselves for bed, and Killian made a point of putting on his usual pajamas as if he had no expectations about sex. And he didn’t have any expectations, truly. He was just hopeful.

Emma got under the covers in a baggy t-shirt and panties, wool socks on her feet to stave off the chill. She’d been overly warm throughout the last few months of her pregnancy, but now that she’d had Maureen, the cold hands and feet had made a reappearance. Killian smiled at her striped socks as he got into bed next to her and turned off his bedside lamp.

They lay facing each other, belly to belly, and looked at each other for a few seconds. Emma squinted an eye shut in a wince and took a deep breath. “I do want to try. Um, sex. I mean, I’m not feeling turned on, so bear with me. I’m hoping I can fake it until I make it, if you know what I mean.”

He spanned her cheek with his hand and leaned close to press a brief kiss to her lips. “That if we get started, your arousal will make a belated appearance?”

“Yeah.” She huffed in frustration. “I had all these plans, you know? I was going to be the best wife. I was going to keep you satisfied over these past six weeks with handjobs and blowjobs. I used to imagine it when I was pregnant, putting the baby down for a nap and dropping to my knees for you in the kitchen or whatever.”

“You know I don’t expect that from you—”

“I know, but I had _plans_. I just didn’t realize how tired I would be. And I didn’t know how Maureen would occupy ninety-nine point nine nine percent of my brain, leaving no room for thinking about sex.”

“She’s taken over a large portion of our lives to be sure,” he said. “Not only for you; for both of us.”

“Yeah, but— look, it’s no secret that the thing that pulled us together at first was physical. Obviously, our relationship became about more than that, but what if we never get back to desperately wanting to bang each other?”

“We will.” He kissed her again, and Emma suddenly pressed herself against him and kissed him back hard.

“We should get this show on the road before she wakes up,” she said, seemingly done for the moment with their heart-to-heart conversation.

They kissed for a little while, and Killian let his hand wander, stroking over the curve of her hip and inside the back of her underwear to grip her bare ass. He was so ready — as hard as he’d ever been, desperate to rut and fuck and have her, but he kept things slow and restrained. He could feel Emma’s prodigious breasts pressing against his chest through the thin cotton of their shirts, and the sensation made waves of desire crash through him. He rolled, pressing himself over her, unable to resist grinding against Emma’s thigh as he continued to kiss her. 

“May I touch you?” he asked her.

“Yeah.” She reached down and pulled her underwear off, kicking at it until it ended up down at the foot of the bed, under the covers somewhere. “Just go slow.”

He coaxed her to lift her knee, her foot planted on the bed and legs parted. Killian let his fingers trail up the inside of her thigh. The hesitancy on both of their parts transported him back to the first time they had done this, on a lumpy mattress at Granny’s years ago, long before they were married. He’d felt just as wrecked then, amazed that Emma was willing to share her body with him. Now his amazement came from a different place. He knew she loved him and wanted him; he had faith in those things. But after her body had been through so much so that they could bring a daughter into the world, when she’d so recently finished healing from that physical ordeal, that she’d be willing to allow this intimacy again made him profoundly grateful.

He was also nervous, although he would never admit it to Emma in a million years, that he would find her body irreparably changed. He knew intellectually that women gave birth all the time and healed perfectly well. Emma herself had given birth before, as had Milah, and he had never found their bodies to be anything but perfect. But this time he’d witnessed it with his own eyes, thanks to the custom of this realm for fathers to be present for the entire birthing process. He was glad he’d been there the moment his daughter was born; he wouldn’t give up that memory for anything, but unfortunately, it was accompanied by seeing his wife’s most intimate body parts transformed into something a bit nightmarish. As a result, he felt himself sigh a small, traitorous sigh of relief when he stroked Emma between her legs and found that it felt familiar.

“Sorry,” Emma whispered. “I _am_ into this, I promise, I’m just not wet.”

She’d already warned him this might be the case, and he’d read it in baby books, so he’d been prepared for the possibility. “Shall I use some of the lubricant? It might make this feel better for you.”

“Okay.” Emma flung her hand out, reaching over the edge of the bed and opening her bedside table drawer. She pulled a small bottle out and flipped it open with her thumb. “Hold your hand out.”

She squeezed some of the lube on his palm, and he rubbed his fingers over it, spreading it and warming it up. When he returned his hand to her sex, Emma sighed and arched her back, her eyes falling closed.

“Better?” he asked.

“Yeah, it feels good.” Her hand came up and gripped his bicep. “ _Really_ good.”

“I’m glad.” Killian tried not to think about how aroused he was and focused on Emma’s responses. He didn’t enter her yet, just alternated between teasing strokes around her opening with more focused attention on her clit. Her quiet gasps and breathy moans were enormously reassuring to him. For the time being, she might not have the libido she’d once had, but he was relieved he could still arouse her when he put his mind to it. 

“God, Killian.” She rolled her hips in time with his movements. “Don’t stop.”

At that moment, a piercing cry sounded from down the hall. Killian froze.

“Shit, not _now_ ,” Emma said. “Go back to sleep, go back to sleep.”

After a few seconds, it was clear that she wasn’t going to go back to sleep. Maureen’s cries became louder and more full-throated. There was no use letting her cry it out; they had tried that, and they found that neither of them was capable of waiting their daughter out when she really got going. They certainly wouldn’t be able to have sex while she cried. With a heavy sigh, Killian sat up. “I’ll get her.”

“Devil baby,” Emma said, fishing down at the bottom of the bed for her underwear. 

“Aye.”

“Let’s see if we can get her settled and then try again, okay?” She gave him a tentative smile.

Killian gave her his best leer before he left the bedroom. “That’s a promise.”

As it turned out, it was a promise he ended up breaking. Emma dozed off with the baby at her breast, and by the time Killian had finished burping Maureen and resettling her in her crib, his wife was sound asleep. He climbed back into the warm bed, pulled Emma’s t-shirt down over her exposed breast, and rolled over. Despite his earlier arousal, soon he too was asleep.

~*~

The next two nights were rough ones, and sex was the farthest thing from his mind when they finally got the baby to sleep. By the time he dragged home on Friday afternoon from the sheriff’s station, Killian was mostly thinking about their bed in the context of sleeping in it.

The first thing that he noticed upon opening the door was the smell of dinner simmering on the stove. The second thing he noticed was that the house seemed unusually silent. 

Emma trotted down the stairs and greeted him with a kiss. “Hey, you’re home.” She was a little bit flushed and breathless and smelled freshly showered.

“Is Maureen napping?” he asked as he pulled off his leather jacket. Emma usually tried to keep the baby awake this close to bedtime, but perhaps they’d had a rough afternoon.

“She’s at Mom and Dad’s. They’re watching her for the evening so that you and I can have some time alone.” She stepped back, wringing her hands together briefly and then gesturing toward the kitchen. “I made dinner for us. I thought I’d open some wine, even.”

Killian frowned. “Are you sure, love?”

“Yeah, the breastfeeding books say one glass is fine—”

“Not about the wine, about your parents looking after Maureen.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “They’re experienced with taking care of a baby, Killian.”

“I know, but _we’re_ not.” He shook his head. “What I mean is, we’re not experienced with being away from our daughter. I’m not worried about the baby, I’m worried about _us_.”

“But I want… I want us to be able to be together without worrying that her crying is going to interrupt a nice moment, that’s all.”

Killian observed how hopeful she looked. “You’re right. Let’s have dinner and an adult conversation.”

“Right?” Emma led the way into the kitchen, where she’d carefully set two places at the table with their nicest dishes. “No talk about poop or feedings or sleep schedules.” She pulled a wine bottle down and fished around in a drawer until she found the corkscrew. 

Once they were seated at the table with full plates and wine glasses, Killian raised his glass to her. “To a quiet evening, just the two of us.”

“Just the two of us,” Emma replied, clinking their glasses together. 

“So, what did you say to your parents? That our darling daughter was not allowing us the time or energy to have sex?”

Emma laughed. “Not in so many words, no, but I’m sure they can connect the dots.”

Killian took a bite of his chicken breast. “This is delicious.”

“Thanks. I used one of those premade sauces from the grocery store, but for me, that’s advanced cooking.”

“And you look beautiful tonight,” he told her over the lip of his wine glass. 

Emma blushed, and Killian resisted the sudden impulse to forget all about dinner and carry his wife upstairs to finally have his way with her. Instead, he took a bite of green beans and chewed, and wondered if Maureen was giving her grandparents any trouble. Which made him worry that they’d find her to be a more difficult baby than their own, and that the blame for that would rest firmly on his shoulders — proof that he’d turned out to be a terrible father in the end.

“So…” Emma drawled after a protracted silence. “Can you think of any adult conversation topics? Because all I can think of to talk about is stuff Maureen did today.”

He let out a breath, relieved that he wasn’t the only one. “Tell me.”

“She did more of that reflex smiling. I know they aren’t real smiles yet, but they’re still so cute I could die.”

He nodded in agreement. “That they are.”

“She also seems to really like that octopus toy that Zelena got her. As soon as she sees it, her eyes follow it wherever I move it— Oh my God, how pathetic am I? I think I have an unhealthy obsession with our baby, Killian,” she laughingly said.

“Well, that makes two of us.” He set his fork down. “She does occupy a lot of our time and energy right now, love; of course she’s occupying our thoughts.”

“I guess you’re right. Still, I’d like to think I’m a slightly more interesting conversationalist.”

“I’ve always found you to be a perfectly interesting conversationalist.”

“Have you? I thought you were just interested in me for my body,” she said with a half-smile.

“Oh, I’m terribly interested in that too, but your mind is equally fascinating to me.” He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.

Emma pushed her plate away. “Let’s go to bed.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “Your determination tonight is impressive.”

She ran a hand through her hair. “To be honest, I’m worried that Maureen will get on one of her crying jags and drive my parents insane, so I’d rather not leave her there any longer than necessary.”

“Emma, if you’re worried, we can go get her. You don’t have to torture yourself.”

“No, no, I want sex. Really.” Of his skeptical gaze, she wilted. “Okay, I don’t _want_ it exactly, but I’m sure I’ll warm up to it. Like the last time we tried.”

“All right,” he said quietly, gesturing for her to precede him up the stairs. He glanced at the dirty dishes; much as he hated leaving a messy kitchen, there were more important things to attend to at the moment. He’d just have to clean it later.

Following Emma into the bedroom, he watched as she pulled her clothes off with somewhat ruthless efficiency, contributing to the sense that she mostly wanted to get this over with. Killian started to unbutton his shirt, hesitating halfway to his navel. He knew asking Emma if she was sure about this would annoy her, so instead, he shifted tactics. Approaching where she stood, he trailed his fingers down her spine. “What can I do for you tonight, love?” he said, letting his voice drop into a deeper register.

Her eyes widened like he’d put her on the spot. “I don’t know. Let’s…” She gestured toward the bed. “See what happens.”

They got into bed, completely naked with each other for the first time since about two days before Emma had gone into labor. Killian had thought that the combination of exhaustion and Emma’s utilitarian seduction might make it a challenge for him to get an erection, but one touch of her skin against his and he was gone, his body bridging the gap that his mind was struggling with. He kissed her, deep and wet and full of passion.

As before, he coaxed her into spreading her legs for him, lubricating his fingers before he touched her this time. Emma closed her eyes, but it was obvious that it wasn’t out of enjoyment; tension was radiating off of her in waves. 

“Relax, darling,” he said, slowly stroking her.

“I’m trying.” She exhaled. “That’s good, keep going,” she said, but her voice was flat.

When he carefully penetrated her with a finger, he saw Emma’s shoulders rise. “Am I hurting you?”

“No, it just… it feels weird.” She opened her eyes, twin pools of anxiety. “Does it feel weird to you?”

“No, love, it doesn’t. Should I stop?”

Emma paused, and then shook her head. “Keep going.”

Despite her words, the expression on her face made him feel like he was forcing her, and his own arousal started to flag in the face of that feeling. Hoping that he was reading her wrong, he continued to gently thrust in and out with one finger. The lubricant made it difficult to tell if she was truly aroused or not, but her facial expression told him she wasn’t. It was like a forced march toward penetration, and he didn’t want it to be this way.

“Emma—”

“I know, I’m sorry,” she groaned, and he was horrified to see tears well in her eyes. He pulled his hand back quickly.

“It _was_ hurting you,” he accused her.

“No, it really wasn’t, I swear.” The tears spilled over, rolling down the sides of her face. “I’m freaking out because my body doesn’t feel like mine, and all I can think about is the baby, and…” She glanced down the length of her body and quickly folded her arms over her breasts. “And my boobs are leaking.”

“Oh, my love,” he said, curling himself around her in what he hoped was a comforting embrace. “You don’t have to force this. If it’s too soon, then it’s too soon.”

“It’s not that it’s too soon, it’s… this wasn’t the right way.” She hiccupped a little sob. 

“Shall we go pick up our daughter?”

He felt Emma nod. “Yeah.”

~*~

Just before dawn, Emma climbed back into their warm bed. She felt Killian stir and looked over. In the dim light, she watched him slowly swimming up from several hours of uninterrupted sleep and gave him a little smile. “Hey.”

He looked around, confusion evident on his face. “How long has Maureen been asleep?”

“I just put her back down.” Off his frown, she explained. “I mostly kept her downstairs during her wakeful period last night so that you could sleep. You seemed particularly exhausted, and I know my emotional meltdown didn’t help.”

Killian sat up, scrubbing his hand through his hair. “You didn’t have to do that, love—”

“I wanted to. You’ve been so amazing and understanding about everything, and—” She leaned over and kissed him on the lips. “And I love you.”

He started to get up, but Emma grabbed his hand and pulled him back down. “Stay in bed with me a little while.”

“I’d love to, but allow me to go relieve myself and clean my teeth,” he said.

“Oh. Okay, that’s allowed.” She watched him go, again struck by what a wonderful husband and father Captain Hook had turned out to be. She’d seen him at his wit’s end over the last couple of weeks dealing with their fussy baby, and he’d never once raised his voice, and had only given up trying to comfort Maureen when Emma suggested she might try feeding her. And then last night, he’d been extremely aroused — she’d felt his erection pressing against her thigh when they first got into bed together, she’d felt his desperation in the way he had kissed her, and yet his only concern had been for her pleasure. When it was clear things weren’t working for her, he’d stopped immediately and showed no sign of resentment during the process of getting dressed and driving to the farm to pick up their daughter. If her parents had wondered why they’d cut their evening so short, they hadn’t asked.

Killian returned to the bedroom and got back under the covers. He was eyeing her carefully but trying not to appear as if he was eyeing her carefully.

Emma knew they should probably talk about what happened the night before, but she really didn’t want to. Right now, she wanted to act, and to do something generous for her husband. Curling into his arms, she kissed him. Under the flavor of toothpaste, he tasted like Killian, and she was struck by how much she’d missed the constancy of their physical intimacy. 

The both scooted down in the bed, cuddled under the blankets and quilts in a cocoon of warmth as they continued to kiss. Killian choked off a groan in the back of his throat as Emma pressed her hips against his.

“I don’t know how much time we have, but I know I want you to come,” she whispered, sliding her hand down the front of his pajamas to take his cock in her hand. “Can I do that, babe? Make you come?”

“I’d rather make you come first,” he said, his eyes squeezing shut as she stroked him. 

Emma shook her head. “Next time, maybe. This time is for you.”

Killian visibly reined himself in, his hand covering hers to stop her motion. “You don’t owe me anything, Emma.”

“I know. But I think I need to take small steps, and right now what I want to do is make you lose control without having to worry about me.” She tightened her grasp around his cock, grinning at his gasped reaction. “Please?”

“Well, it would be the height of… churlishness for me… to resist such an offer,” he managed to choke out as Emma continued to move her fist up and down his length. “Gods, _Emma_.” 

“Take your pajama pants off,” she said reaching behind her to grab the lube where they’d left it the night before. While Killian did as she asked, maneuvering the elastic waistband of his pants over his erection, she put a good-sized amount of lube in her palm. Taking him in hand again, she moved over his skin until everything was warm and slippery and then set up a rhythm, twisting her wrist over the head on each upstroke before sinking down to the base. 

Killian moaned, pulling her closer, his hand moving to the back of her head to bring their mouths together. His kiss was sloppy and needy, and Emma felt her own body respond to the intensity of his arousal. She continued to stroke him, licking into his mouth as he held onto her and gave in to the way she was coaxing him toward release. Finally, he broke away, forehead pressed against hers, panting into the space between them. “I’m close,” he gasped. 

Emma sped up her motion, meeting each of his thrusts into her fist. “That’s it, Killian. Let go.”

He groaned, his hips stuttering as he came. She stroked him through it, gradually slowing until she felt him relax, and she let go of his softening cock. Wiping her hand off on her soiled t-shirt, she snuggled in close to him, sighing as if she were the one who had found release.

“We need to clean up,” Killian murmured, the gentle curve of a smile on his lips.

Combing the damp hair at this temple, Emma shook her head. “In a minute. I don’t want to let go of you yet.”

“Are you sure I can’t return the favor, love?”

It was tempting, because seeing him reach orgasm had aroused her, but she didn’t want to detract from this perfect moment with her anxieties about her own body, not now. “I’m good. This was exactly what I wanted this morning.”

Killian brushed his nose against hers, kissing her tenderly. “Thank you.”

“Any time,” she said, and then giggled. “Well, not _any_ time.”

“Not when we’re visiting your parents at the farm, for example.”

“Or at the sheriff’s station,” Emma added.

“Oh, I don’t know, as I recall there’s a storage room we can steal away to when we are very motivated,” Killian said as he continued to press little kisses against her lips. He felt boneless and content in her arms, and it made Emma want to stretch this moment out for as long as she could.

A cry sounded from down the hall, and she sighed heavily, dropping her head back onto the pillow. “Dammit.”

“I’ll get her,” Killian said, grabbing his pajama pants from the floor. 

“And I’ll change my shirt,” Emma said, pulling the sticky cotton away from her stomach. 

Killian grimaced. “Sorry.”

“Uh-uh, don’t you dare apologize, this was the best start to the day we’ve had in awhile.” She pulled the shirt off over her head and threw it in the hamper. “Hey,” she called to Killian as he started to leave the room, causing him turn back. “I love you.”

The way his face lit up made her melt. “I love you, too.”

~*~

The hairdressers at Storybrooke’s only hair salon _loved_ Maureen.

After Emma got home and fed her, Maureen zonked out, seemingly exhausted from being passed around from person to person while Goldilocks went to work on Emma’s hair. Emma put the baby down in her crib, then stared at her own reflection in the bathroom mirror for a while, wondering if she’d made a horrible mistake. She went back into the bedroom, collapsing on the bed — might as well try to catch a little sleep, she thought. _It’ll be tempting to clean the house while the baby’s asleep,_ her mother had said to her at one point. _Don’t. Nap when the baby’s napping._ Sometimes she took that advice and sometimes she didn’t, but today she soon found that she couldn’t seem to close her eyes.

Absently, Emma pressed against her abdomen through her thin shirt, hating the way her body felt sort of spongy and loose under her fingertips. She knew she couldn’t expect things to spring back to normal immediately, but that didn’t make it any easier to bear, especially when those feelings were layered on top of her usual insecurities about getting older. 

Trying to escape those fruitless anxieties, Emma’s mind wandered to a few mornings ago, and the first real successful sexual encounter she and Killian had had since the baby was born. It might have been mostly one-sided, but she still counted it as a victory. Imagining the way he looked when he was overwhelmed with desire, she slid her hand underneath the front of her leggings and underwear, cupping her pubic bone in her hand. 

Deep down, she had to admit she was afraid of the way sex was going to feel. She’d loved being penetrated, loved that feeling of being stretched to the limit. Now her body felt wrong, _fragile_ , like despite what her doctor had said, things weren’t really healed properly and Killian might inadvertently damage her. It made her feel like a sort of invalid, like her body was broken. Cautiously, she probed at her vagina and just beyond, that area still a tiny bit sore from where she’d been stitched up after the delivery. She pressed around with her fingertips, looking for the source of the wrongness, but nothing seemed terribly out of place.

She started to remove her hand, letting her fingers graze across her clit, and she felt a little spark of pleasure at the contact. Gasping, she repeated the touch a few times, almost laughing at the notion that she’d had to rediscover masturbation. Still, that’s what it felt like, touching herself purely for the enjoyment of it for the first time in ages. 

The front door downstairs opened, and she heard Killian’s familiar footfalls crossing the floor and coming up the stairs. Emma sat up, grinning ruefully at his timing, then remembered her hair and panicked, her hands flying to clutch it behind her head just as he walked through the bedroom door.

Killian gave her a confused look. “What are you doing?”

Emma dropped her hands sheepishly. “I got my hair cut,” she said, which was probably unnecessary to say, as her hair now hung at the level of her shoulders. The thought of all that hair on the floor of the beauty salon made her a little bit sick to her stomach.

Without saying anything, Killian dropped down next to her on the bed to examine it more closely. He reached out, touching the ends of it with his fingertips.

“You hate it.”

He leaned over toward her, brushing his lips against the line of her jaw. “You’re beautiful,” he said. “Do _you_ like it?”

“Yeah. I mean, it’s gonna take some getting used to, but I think I like it.”

“Then I like it too,” he murmured, shifting her hair out of the way and kissing underneath her ear. “Where’s Maureen?”

“I just put her down for a nap.” She grinned, her heartbeat picking up speed. “Why?”

He pulled back, seeming to realize for the first time that she’d also been in bed. Or, _on_ the bed anyway. “Sorry, you were going to take a nap too, weren’t you?”

She shook her head, biting her lip. “I thought about it, but I couldn’t sleep. Actually, I thought I’d try rubbing one out.”

Killian’s eyebrows shot up, and he looked positively delighted. “Really?”

“Yeah. I was… testing the waters.” Grabbing him by the collar, Emma let herself fall backward. Killian followed, looming over her on the bed. “But now that you’re here…”

Their lips met, and Emma brought her hand up to Killian’s chest, feeling the firm muscles underneath his shirt as he positioned himself on top of her, propped up on one elbow. She felt a surge of desire and broke the kiss on a laugh.

He smiled at her joy, the skin around his eyes crinkling. “What?”

“Nothing, I just… want this. I mean really this time. I _want_ you.” She craned her neck up to kiss him again, and for a few minutes they made out like teenagers, hands grasping for any bit of flesh they could reach, hips grinding against each other through their pants.

Finally, Emma pushed Killian away so that she could strip off her clothes. As she pulled her leggings and underwear and socks off, Killian dexterously unfastened his shirt, his hand flying down the buttons. Emma pulled off her own shirt, hesitating on the clasp of her bra.

“Everything okay?” Killian asked, kicking his jeans and boxers to the floor as he unbuckled his brace. 

“Should I leave my bra on? I might leak on you.”

“Do what makes you feel comfortable, but I assure you that I really don’t care.” He pulled back the covers of the bed, getting under and holding the blankets up in invitation for her to join him. 

With a shrug, Emma tossed the unflattering bra to the floor, nursing pads tumbling down with it. “I guess I’d rather feel your skin all over.” She turned to him, letting him pull her into his arms. 

“I promise I’ll be careful with these,” Killian said with a grin, his hand tracing down the curve of her breast. He lowered his head, placing a gentle kiss in the valley of her cleavage. 

“Would you touch me? Like before?” she asked. She pressed her hips forward, and Killian slid his thigh between her legs to give her some friction as he reached for the ever-present bottle on the bedside table.

“I would love to,” he said, his voice gravelly with desire. “I’d spend hours pleasuring you if I could.”

She giggled. “We definitely don’t have hours— oh my _God_ ,” she gasped as his slick fingers slid between her folds. “That’s… that’s good. Fuck.”

He kneaded her flesh with his talented fingers, kissing her over and over until she thought she might explode from too much sensation. Then she felt him enter her with a finger as he pulled back and studied her face. “Okay?”

Emma nodded quickly. It still didn’t feel normal, but it certainly didn’t feel _bad_. He thrust slowly in and out, and she whimpered, her fingernails scratching through his chest hair. It felt like her nerves were on fire but in the best possible way. “Another,” she gasped.

“Are you sure?”

“Uh-huh.”

He slid two fingers inside her, and Emma groaned in response. She bucked against his hand, fucking herself on his fingers, and then his thumb started to tease her clit, little circles that made her tremble.

“Are you close?” Killian whispered.

“I can’t— I don’t know.” The needs of her body after such a long drought without an orgasm were warring with her nerves about taking his cock inside her. “I think I need to fuck you.”

“Let me make you come first, love; I won’t last long,” Killian said, speaking the words against her lips. “You’re so perfect and I want you so much.”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ve really… missed you inside me.”

She didn’t have to ask him again. He positioned himself between her thighs, sitting up on his knees so he could apply more lube to his erection. He stroked himself, looking down at her with a lazy half-smile, and Emma shuddered again as she drank in the erotic sight of him pleasuring himself. Why hadn’t she been watching him jack off these last few weeks, she wondered. What a missed opportunity.

Emma splayed her legs wider, as ready as she’d ever be. Killian kept his cock in his hand, swiping the head of it up and down over her entrance and dragging across her clit, and she gasped again at how amazing she felt. How had she waited this long? Now that she was turned on, it seemed impossible that she’d gone such a long time without fucking this man.

Finally, he pushed inside her, moving slow, watching her for any sign of pain. She did feel a twinge of discomfort at the stretch, but she’d felt worse after a long dry spell. Mostly it felt odd, like the architecture of her insides had changed somehow.

“Is that okay?” Killian asked.

Emma nodded.

“Does it feel good?”

“It’s… does it feel different to you?” she asked him.

“It feels wonderful, Emma, I promise you.” He pulled out part way and then pushed forward again, sinking into her to the base of his cock. “Gods, you feel so good.” The words tumbled out so quickly that she could barely make them out.

“I’m okay,” she said, as much for herself as for him. “Don’t hold back.”

Killian dropped down over her, changing the angle and holding himself up on his elbows as he started to piston his hips in a steady rhythm. After a little while, it stopped mattering whether it felt different, because really it felt incredible. Emma moaned, her hands gripping at his back. She brought her knees up, spreading herself wider, and wrapped her legs around him.

“Fuck, Emma—”

“Don’t stop,” she gasped. He was probably close, but God, so was she, and if he could keep doing exactly what he was doing—

The noise she made when she came was relieved and probably way too loud given that they had a sleeping baby down the hall, but it was soon drowned out by Killian’s own moan as he let himself fall. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, letting his weight rest against her as their breathing and heart rates started to slow.

Emma reluctantly unwound her limbs from around him, her thigh muscles protesting as she stretched. Killian pulled out and collapsed beside her, a happy grin on his face, while Emma looked down at herself. “Ugh. Hand me a tissue.”

Killian did as she asked, and Emma blushed as she wiped droplets of breastmilk from her chest. “Sorry about that,” she said.

His smile didn’t falter. “I told you I don’t mind. It’s miraculous, the things the female body is capable of.”

“Yeah, that’s one word for it,” she muttered.

“Given all the bodily fluids we’ve exchanged over the years, what’s one more?”

“Gross.”

Killian pulled her into his arms, nuzzling against her neck. “It’s not gross, it’s beautiful. Gods, I love you.”

“I love you, too. Um, and in case it wasn’t obvious, I really enjoyed that.” She turned her head and kissed him. “We’re gonna be okay.”

“Of course we are, love.”

The sound of the baby’s cry echoed down the hall. 

“Our daughter, on the other hand, thinks everything is terrible and needs to tell us about it urgently,” Emma said with a smirk.

“Well, let’s go set her aright.” With one more kiss to her lips, Killian pulled himself up and out of bed. Rolling onto her side and propping her head up on the palm of her hand, Emma watched him getting dressed. Clearly, the advice should have been to fuck while the baby’s napping, she thought, and then laughed out loud at the idea of her mother sharing that particular nugget of wisdom.

“What’s so funny, darling?”

Emma shook her head. “Nothing. I’m just happy.”


End file.
